WatchingWaiting
by swearymary
Summary: A little bit of angst between our boys - hope you enjoy.
1. Sam  Watching

**This should be read before: Dean - Waiting**

**Sam - Watching**

You clean your guns

And I watch

You sharpen your knives

And I watch

Your skin still damp from a shower, you dress

And from behind my bangs – I watch

You flirt

And thought it hurts, breaks my heart even – I watch

You sleep

And this is the time, at night, when I am free to watch, devour - by sight – to take in as much of you as I want, as much as I need, freely – without reprimand or consequence.

My watching through the day has to be limited – if you were to know how I felt about you - for you - you'd be repulsed. This thing that I feel - that I want – is far from normal. But for us, what is normal? This is the question that brings me light on the darkest days – that maybe we could be possible, the two of us. But the light doesn't burn strong for long and I have to appease myself with watching, glimpsing.

The glimpses I snatch and the few 'innocent' touches I make – the brushing of my fingers against yours as I hand you something, the hand on your shoulder asking if you're okay, the brushing of shoulders as we pass - are the fuel to the ever growing fire that consumes me, bringing me temporary relief when I shower – jacking off, you're name falling almost silently from my lips as I come.

You're laid on your side now, facing me – your mouth slackened slightly in sleep, your face free from expression – peaceful, serene – not the tired, haunted look that consumes you in the light of day.

I love you more, if that's at all possible, when you're like this.

You've taken to sleeping in just your shorts because of the heat – a thin cotton sheet pulled up to your hips. One hand rests palm up beside your face, the other hangs loosely over your stomach – your arm resting on your side.

From where I lay in my own bed – barely a few feet away, my gaze traces every line, every curve of you.

Not for the first time - nor the last – I wonder how your skin would taste as I lick every inch, how your pulse would feel beneath my tongue as I lick at your neck or wrist. I wonder at how, your hard body stretched out beneath me, your skin warm and slick with sweat against mine - would feel, and I realise my breathing has become heavy. This is what you do to me and you don't even know it.

A cars passing headlights sweep across the room, bathing you momentarily in their light and a low moan escapes you as you shift from your side onto your back, your forearm across your eyes - and I palm my hard cock through my shorts as the sheet slips lower, revealing more of you to me.

My eyes sear a path from the thin band of your shorts - visible now the sheet has shifted - along your flat, toned stomach and chest, to fall on your face, partly obscured by your arm. Looking at your lips I unconsciously lick my own and I have an overwhelming urge to touch them. Just one touch, but I blink that thought away – until it comes back with white-hot need as soon as I lay eyes on those soft lips again.

Before I can over analyse, I'm out of my bed and kneeling beside yours. My breathing is erratic and sounds loud to my ears as I struggle to control my need. This is the farthest I've ever ventured – to kneel beside you and be about to touch you is a whole new level for me.

Reaching out my hand, slowly – not surprised at the slight tremor I see there – my finger tips barely graze your lips as you sigh and your head falls to face me. Snatching my hand away and squeezing my eyes shut, my head fills with the sound of my own racing heart as I wait for your inevitable question of, 'What the hell are you doing?".

But after a few seconds, when it doesn't come, I open my eyes to see you're still asleep. Releasing the pent up breath I wasn't even aware I'd been holding, I squeeze my eyes shut – my mind screaming at me to stop what I'm about to do, my body screaming at me to continue. My body wins out and opening my eyes, I slowly lean forward and feeling your soft, warm breath – I softly sweep my lips across your own and fuck if that doesn't get me harder.

Backing away, heart still racing, I quietly go back to my own bed, and slipping under the sheet I rest on my back. Gazing at the ceiling, I'm still on a high from that small taste of your lips and I trace the tip of my tongue across my own, catching just a hint of you.

But soon, I know, a hint of you will not be enough to sustain me, to quell the ache I feel each time I look at you.

I need you.

And eventually – like tonight's new level – my body will stop listening to my screaming mind – and I will have you.


	2. Dean  Waiting

**This should be read after: Sam - Watching**

I clean my guns

And feel you watching

I sharpen my knives

And feel you watching

My skin still damp from a shower, I dress

And through your bangs – I feel you watching

I flirt

And still you watch

I pretend to sleep

And laying on my side, facing you – I know you're watching me.

This is as much a nightly routine for me, as it is to you.

You watch. I wait.

I anticipate this part of the days end as much as I know you do. It sounds crazy, girly even, but it's as though I can feel your eyes on me – each look a small caress.

You know I'm no where near capable as you at expressing my feelings – I don't do this kind of thing well.

You think I don't notice the glimpses, the 'accidental' touches – fingers brushing against mine, the pressure of your hand on my shoulder as you ask if I'm okay, the brush of our shoulders as we pass. I notice – and feel – them all. I feel them deep down, butterflies fluttering in my stomach, at each touch, no matter how slight. You honestly don't realise the effect you have on me.

Sometimes you're not as quiet as you think you are – the noise of the shower can't always hide the sound of you calling out my name as you come. The one and only time I've heard it – my cock was instantly, achingly hard. I'd just heard the confirmation of what I'd suspected – that you felt the same, wanted the same, as I.

But what I feel for you is beyond normal Sammy. But I ask myself what's normal in our fucked up lives. Shouldn't we have something that makes our lives bearable, something that gives us some slice of happiness.

But now as I lay facing you, I wait – and wonder. Will tonight be the night you decide to leave your bed and come to mine. To lay with me and make us whole.

The decision, in my mind, in the end – has to be yours.

I listen to you breathe and notice a subtle change – you're breathing heavier and I wonder what it is you're thinking. Are you thinking what it'd be like to fuck me Sammy? Or am I fucking you?

A cars passing headlights sweep across the room and I take this as an opportunity to roll onto my back, tangling my legs in the sheet, pulling it down further. Resting my forearm across my eyes, I open them.

To me, the air feels electric – as if you're on the cusp of some change within you. I'm struggling to breathe at a normal rate as I feel your eyes raking up my exposed torso, and then I hear you move.

My heart's racing as I hear you kneel beside the bed. I don't move – I let the sound of your breathing wrap around me and I feel the softest touch against my lips as your fingertips graze them.

I almost lose it as that small touch goes straight to my cock and a sigh escapes me. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall to face you, my forearm falling to the pillow behind me.

For what feels like forever, the silence is deafening until I hear you breathe. Then a slight shift in the air as you move closer quickens my already racing pulse and then you're there. For only a fleeting second – your lips brush mine and my heart feels as though it will burst.

I want to act on it Sammy, believe me I do. I want to reach out and pull you to me, devour your mouth with my own.

But then you're gone as I hear you return to your own bed. And my heart slowly breaks.

You want this – want us. As do I.

I want to kiss you Sammy – suck you, bite you, fuck you and more. I want you to look at me as you breathe my name when you come.

But I have to wait – I can't act on this Sammy.

As much as I want this – need this – it has begin with you. Your actions speak a thousand words to me, but I have to hear it – hear it said from your sweet mouth.

That you want this – want us.

But after tonight – in the wake of your lips on mine – I feel as though that beginning is drawing nearer.


	3. Dean  Ghost Of You

Dawn's early light seeps through the room's thin curtains and shadows slowly retreat as light begins to filter into the room.

The silence of the room wraps itself around me as I lay awake, tired but unable to sleep. Sleep has been out of my reach ever since you brushed your lips against mine. I haven't been able to think of anything else since in the hours that have passed.

Every time I've closed my eyes, I can feel that soft brush of your lips and my mind and body responds. My skin breaks out in goose bumps, my cock stirs to life and my mind runs through so many possible scenarios of us together that it only serves to torture me.

But I'm helpless to it's draw – laying here on my side, watching you as you lay in your own bed, facing away from me – as I recall the ghost of your lips against mine and know now, as I had only dared to hope only a few hours ago, that our beginning is indeed drawing near.


	4. Sam Taste Of You

Dawn's early light seeps through the rooms thin curtains and I'm mesmerised by the dust motes that float and linger in the air.

I'm tired, sleep having come only in dribs and drabs, the waking hours in-between filled only with the constant, slow-motion replay of my kissing you – the taste of you still imprinted on my lips – lips that are practically raw from the constant tracing of the tip of my tongue, tasting you over and over.

The waking hours have also been filled with my mind working overtime. I've taken that first step and acted upon my needs, my wants – and I crave more, much more.

This time I acted upon them in a cowardly way, waiting for you to fall asleep.

But the next time, and there will be a next time – you will most definitely be awake.


End file.
